Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1887-01-13

| fear falls upon the guests save one, and
| confusion and diSmay, and anxious
| conjecture reign supreme.
CHAPTER IN.
The night passes; the next day
dawns, deepens, grows into noon, and
still nothing happens to relieve the
terrible anxiety that is felt by all with
in the castle rs ia the fate Of its miss
ing master. They weary themselves
out wondering, idly but necessarily,
what can have become of him.
The second day comes and goes, so
does the third and the fourth, the fifth
and the sixth, and then the seventh
daWnS.
Florence Delmaine, who has been
half-distracted with conflicting fears
and emotions, and who has been sit
ting in her room apart from the others,
with her head bent down and resting
on her hands, suddenly raising her
eyes, sees Dora standing before her.
The widow is looking haggard and
hOllow-eyed. All her dainty freshness
has gone, and she now looks in years
what in reality she is, close on thirty
five. Her lips are pale and dropping,
her checks cOlorlesS; her whole air is
suggestive of deep depression, the re-
suit of SleepleSS nights and days filled
with grief and suspense of the most
poignant nature.
ALAS, how well she loves him tool"
| thinks Florence, contemplating her IN
silence. Dora, advancing, lays her
| hand upon the table near Florence, and
says, i'll q hurried impaSSiOned tone
ooh, Florence, what has become OF
him? What has been done to him? /
tIIn iatx
for the past two miserable days, but
now | feel l must speak to some one Or
go mad!"
She smites her hands together, and,
sinking into a chair, looks as if she is
going to faint. Florence, greatly
alarmed, rises from her chair, and,
running to her, places her arm round
her as though to support her. But Do
"a repulses her almost roughly and
motions her away.
do not touch mew she cries hOarSe-
| ". "DO not come near me; you, of all
people, should be the last to come to
| my assistance! Besides, [ am not here
to talk about myself, but of him. Flor
ence, have you any suspiciOn"
| Dora leans forward and looks Scrutin-
izingly at her cousin, as though fearing,
yet hoping to get an answer in the
| dLIIuloClfV' bug i 1OlOICC pudhOo lCi
head.
II have no suspicion-none," she an
sWers sadly IF I had should / not act
upon it. whatever it might cost me?"
Would YOU" asks Dora eagerly, as
| though impressed by her companion $
7 W0rds-"Whateyer it might cost your"
Her manner is so strange that Flor
ence pauses before replying.
"YpS - Cha Cayc of 1act HNO earth lU
| consideration should keep me from US
| ing any knowledge [ might by accident
| or otherwise become possessed OF to
lay bare this mystery. Dora" she cries
| suddenly, IF you know anything, l I'M
| pl0re, [ entreat you to say So"
What should [ know responds
| the widow, recoiling.
You loved him too" says Florence
| piteOusly, now more than ever con-
| WINGED that Dora is keeping something
| hidden from her. For the sake of that
love, disclose anything you may know
about this awful matter"
Il dare not speak openly" replies the
widow, growing even a shade paler,
because my suspicion is OF the barest
character, and may be altogether
wrong. Yet there are moments when
some hidden instinct within my breast
whispers to me that [ am on the right
track"
IF So" murmurS Florence, falling
upon her knees before her, 'do not hes
itate; follow up this instructive feeling,
and who knows but something may
come Of it! Dora, do not delay. Soon,
soon-if not already-it may be too
late. Alas" she cries, bursting into
bitter tears, "What do [ say? Is it not
too late even now? What hope can
there be after SIX long days, and no
tidings?"
Il will do what I can, [ am resolved"
declares Dora, rising abruptly to her
feet. II too late to do any good, it
may not be too late to wiring the truth
from him, and bring the murderer to
justice"
From him? From whom = what
murderer" exclaims Florence, in a
voice of horror. Dora, what are you
saying?"
Never mind. Let me 90 now; and
to-nlght-this evening let me come to
you here again, and tell you the result
OF what am now about to do"
She quits the room as silently as she
entered it, and Florence, sinking back
IN her chair, gives herself up to the eX-
element and amaZement that are over
towering her. There is something else,
too, in her thoughts that is pulling
and perplexing her; in all Dora's man
ner there was nothing that would lead
her to think that she loved Sir Adrian;
there was fear, and a desire for re-
venge in it, but none of the despair of
a loving woman who had lost the man
to whom she has given her heart.
Florence is still bordering these
things, while Dora, going swiftly down
stairs. turns into the side hall, glanc-
ing into library and rooms as she goes
along, plainly in search of something
or some one.
At last her. se2rch is, successful: in a